


this ain't personal

by sarah_x



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Unhealthy Relationships, erron black is fucked up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-09 22:32:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18926293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarah_x/pseuds/sarah_x
Summary: Based on:“This ain’t personal.”“Sure seems personal.”“Oh alright, maybe just a little.”*Kabal wants to kill Kano. Erron wants to kill Kano, but likes getting paid more. So they find a different way to let off some steam.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> MK's timeline is a mess now so my canon now.jpeg but also this is Kabal and Erron's Black Dragon days together, pre-MK11. Good luck figuring out where this fits in the timeline.

The sun didn’t set so much as simmer in Outworld. Heat drenched every inch of Outworld’s barren landscape, making the air thick and humid and days long and taxing. Occasionally, violent winds would send sand flying at high speed, stinging eyes and choking lungs, but for the most part it was a constant and sickly heat. The people here made their living from livestock, walking miles in the hot sun to sell eggs and milk at the marketplace. Water was scarce, the carcasses of horses and giant reptiles were evidence of that. Only the hardened survived in a place like this, which was the reason Erron Black enjoyed it so much.

He didn’t dwell much on his Texan upbringing. He’d lived lifetimes since then: all of them bloody. Outworld was like a dream. This bizarre, violent world, like out of those storybooks he’d steal as a kid and read in secret. Maybe that was why nights like this made him think of Wickett. Those long evenings under the Texas sun where, just like Outworld, he had lived in an orange glow where time failed to matter when there was such an overabundance of it. 

He watched a cloud of bugs dance around his boots, feet up on the railing, and ignored Kabal’s loud arrival. It cut through the still evening like a gunshot. Feet stomping up the steps of the wooden porch and onto the decking. His hookswords hit the ground with a clang, just inside Erron’s eyeline. The blades of the swords were thick with blood, clumps of pinkish brain matter and strands of fair hair. Erron’s eyes flickered up from the swords to Kabal, who was cursing and pulling his shirt over his head. His face and torso were covered in fine cuts, it was almost as if he’d attacked himself with his own swords.

As Kabal fell heavily into the chair opposite him, Erron raised a brow. “Looks like someone found a party.” 

Kabal glanced up at him, as if noticing him for the first time. His face twisted with anger. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“Really?” Erron couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Seems like you’re doing a shit job so far, whoever ‘yer gunning for.” 

“Fuck you, Black,” Kabal hissed, then sighed, going limp in the chair. “That job Kano ordered? The temple hit? Well, there weren’t any monks. Daegon was there, along with a handful other Red Dragon cocksuckers- AHHH!” 

Kabal gasped as he pulled a shard of metal out of his arm. He covered it with his hand and grimaced, blood seeping through his fingers. 

Erron’s smile quickly vanished. His hands dug into the wood of his chair. “Trust Kano to start raising hell when we’ve got a good thing going here.”

“He sent me to my fucking death, Black.” 

Kabal couldn’t hide the shock from his voice. He was fast and he ran off adrenaline but the come down was hard. He closed his hands into fists, trying to hide the trembling. 

“Don’t go starting shit with Kano,” Erron said quickly, “It ain’t worth the shitstorm that’ll stir up.” 

“Don’t start shit?” Kabal clenched his jaw. “He’s trying to kill me.” 

“Kano’s thick as pigshit,” Erron replied, “But we need him.”

“Like hell we do!” Kabal stood abruptly and swiped Erron's glass from the small table beside his chair, sending it flying across the porch until it hit the railing and shattered. 

Erron stood up from his seat slowly, hands resting on either gun holster. He was only half an inch taller than Kabal but that was everything. He stared into the other man’s eyes, almost flush with the mercenary, daring him to react. When Erron leaned in, his voice was low and menacing. “You better get a lid on that temper,  _ boy _ ,” Erron hummed, “Or I’ll kill you and use your mouth as my fucking gun holster.” 

Kabal hesitated for a moment, then steeled himself, clenching his jaw until it threatened to break his teeth. “Fuck off. I don’t owe you anything.” 

Kabal shoved past him and into the tavern. He had to admit he was impressed Kabal hadn’t backed down, not many people had the balls to stand up to Erron Black and most who had were dead. Erron took one of his guns out and quietly aimed it at the back of Kabal’s head as he walked away. Erron didn’t buy into any of that Shaolin honour crap, any way to get the job done, he’d do it. He had a clear shot. It would be so easy. 

Too easy.

Smirking, Erron put the gun back in its holster and followed Kabal into the tavern. It wasn’t a busy night, thanks to Kano’s shakedown of the innkeeper. He’d threatened the poor guy’s beautiful daughter with severe facial disfigurement among a myriad of other gruesome injuries if he hadn’t declared the tavern Black Dragon territory for the foreseeable future. Kano was sat at the bar, chugging from a huge pint glass the size of a man’s head and chortling with ugly, rattling laughter that made Erron want to kill him on site. 

Kano had his back to them, so he didn’t see Kabal approaching behind him, eyes flashing with murder. Just before Kabal could reach him, Erron gripped him firmly by the arm. 

He yanked hard on Kabal’s arm and jerked his head towards the tavern’s staircase. “Upstairs.” 

“Get off me, Black.”

Kabal tried to shake him off but Erron only tightened his grip, digging his fingers into one of Kabal’s wounds, making the other hiss in pain. 

“Come on.” 

Erron half-led, half-dragged Kabal to the stairs, blocking Kabal’s view of Kano with his shoulder. Once they got to the landing, Erron shoved Kabal in front of him and pointed towards a door at the end of the hall. 

“There.” 

Kabal frowned, “Your bedroom?” He looked between the door and Erron. 

Erron narrowed his eyes and sighed deeply, “Just get inside.”

He could see the confusion and anger fading from Kabal until a self-satisfied smirk tugged at the mercenary’s mouth. He moved closer to Erron, folding his arms over his chest. “Why do you want me in your bedroom, Black?” He hummed, “Are we gunna braid each other's hair?” 

Erron narrowed his eyes and grabbed Kabal harshly by the shoulder, shoving him into the room. As Kabal stumbled, he pointed at the bed and in a voice like a snarl demanded, “Sit.”

Kabal grinned, “You’re the boss.” 

“No, that would be Kano,” Erron mumbled, rolling his eyes. He had half the mind to strangle Kano himself for putting them in this situation. Erron took his hat off, letting it hang off the bedpost. He ignored Kabal’s keen eyes, the way he studied him from the bed, one leg tucked under him and the other resting on the floor. 

He turned his back to Kabal, but could still see him in the mirror on the dresser. It paid for a man to keep his wits about him and Kabal was still very much a threat to him, even in this tenuous arrangement with Kano. His fingers found the clasps to his mask and he unhooked them slowly, pulling the face mask off and placing it on the dresser. He touched his chin for a moment, feeling the harsh scratch of stubble, a reminder he definitely needed a shave before it became itchy and ugly. 

Erron still had half a bottle of whiskey on the dresser close to his mask and little other personal effects. He took an old rag out of one of the draws and poured a generous amount of whiskey onto it. Then he turned back to Kabal, walking towards the bed, and Kabal moved his leg again so both feet rested firmly on the floor. 

He handed him the outstretched rag like an olive branch, “Here,” He hummed, “God’s own antiseptic.” 

Kabal let out a rough laugh, “Ha. Forgot you were such a hick.”

“Too busy licking your own wounds all the time to notice?” 

Kabal took the rag from him, pressing it against his shoulder and hissing through his teeth. It wasn’t much but it would do. Most of the cuts looked superficial anyway, surface level nicks that bled in bucket loads but wouldn’t leave much serious damage besides a crappy story behind some old scars. Not exactly death by a thousand cuts.

Erron crossed back to the dresser and swigged the rest of the whiskey from the bottle. Black Dragon were expert smugglers and could get all kinds of contraband from Earthrealm to Outworld, one of the perks of working for a group like Kano’s. No doubt it’d be more thrilling going at it alone but he’d have to trade in simple pleasures like these. 

He leaned against the dresser, one hand clutching the bottle and the other hugged against his chest. He watched Kabal through narrowed eyes as he wiped the rag across his skin, over the cuts that interrupted tattoos on thick arms and toned skin. No doubt Kabal was a fine man, if he didn’t act like such a fucking child all the time. But maybe that was just Erron’s age showing. He took another swig from the bottle. 

Kabal glanced up at him when he was done examining a slash on his elbow. He didn’t speak for a moment but then said, “Are you going to stare at me all night?” 

Erron didn’t reply. 

“Well, at least make yourself useful,” Kabal told him. The dripping, bloody rag hung limply from his fingers. “I can’t reach my back.” 

Erron stared at him for a long moment. Neither of them moved. Kabal let out a breath and said, “Please?” 

Erron put the bottle of whiskey down on the dresser, hard enough to rattle it. His fingers slid down the neck all the way to the base of the bottle. His footsteps were slow and heavy on the old wood floor of the tavern and when he reached the bed, Kabal shuffled away from him so he could sit down. He lowered himself onto the bed beside Kabal as the other man had done earlier, one leg tucked under him and the other planted on the floor, grounding him.

He took the rag from Kabal’s hand, “Turn around.” 

Kabal shuffled on the bed until his back was facing Erron. Hunched over at first, Erron pushed his palm into the small of Kabal’s back, over a particularly nasty scratch, and pulled on his shoulders. Kabal yelped.

“Sit up straight.”

“Coulda just said, Black.” 

“Don’t be such a woman.”

Kabal shook his head but did as Erron told him, shifting his weight to sit up straighter. One hand rested on Kabal’s shoulder, the over glided the rag across his skin, wiping the blood away. Every so often, Erron moved the rag and squeezed it over the edge of the bed, onto the floor. The innkeeper could deal with the mess in the morning. 

Kabal’s back saw the worst of it, the wounds slightly deeper with one that might have needed stitches. Erron imagined himself sticking his fingers in those wounds and tearing away at them, digging through to all that muscle and cartilage. Hearing Kabal scream. It’d be cathartic, after the months of bickering and resentment brewing just beneath the surface. He pressed a little harder in some places, to make Kabal squirm. It was fun to watch him. 

He threw the rag onto the floor with a wet sound. His index finger traced a line down Kabal’s spine from the base of his neck to small of his back.

Kabal went very still. “What are you doing?”

A big mistake, turning his back on Erron Black. 

He brought his lips to Kabal’s neck, a soft kiss at first, enough to elicit a gasp from the other mercenary. Then he sunk his teeth in, clamping down until he broke Kabal’s skin. Kabal let out a yell and threw an elbow at him. 

Erron tried to jerk away but Kabal’s elbow collided with his jaw and his head reeled back. He didn’t know if the blood in his mouth was his blood or Kabal’s but the unmistakable metallic taste was a welcome friend. He smiled. 

Kabal turned, glaring at him. He pointed a finger at Erron, “You’re a sick fucking bastard.” 

Erron didn’t bother to deny it. He just kept on smirking. 

Kabal’s eyes darted to the door, then back to Erron. He surged forward, but not for the door. He grabbed Erron’s face and smashed their lips together. It was a kiss like a collision, all teeth at first, Kabal’s fingernails digging into the side of Erron's face. Erron forced his tongue inside Kabal's mouth. He wanted Kabal to taste what he’d done to him and Kabal moaned as Erron’s tongue slid over his, the vibration of it echoing through Erron’s aching jaw. Kabal’s hands moved from his face and fisted his hair, pulling on it. Erron gripped Kabal’s knee while his free hand drifted to the gun he still had holstered, knowing he could pull it out if this got a little too violent. 

Erron shoved Kabal off of him and backwards onto the bed. He looked a sight, the gleam of sweat on his skin, breathing heavy and lips swollen. 

A mischievous glint filled his eyes, “Do I move too fast for you, old man?” 

“You’re the one who’s out of breath.” 

Erron kicked off his boots and grabbed ahold of Kabal’s thighs, pulling his legs apart and fitting in between them. He was a heavy weight above Kabal, still weighed down by the gunbelt and holsters. Kabal sat up to meet him and kissed him without violence. His hand found the side of Erron’s face, rubbed a thumb across his jawline. Erron’s body went stiff. The softness of it made him want to bolt. 

Kabal pulled off his lips but kept his face close. He whispered, “Does everything have to hurt with you?” 

It was difficult to look Kabal in the eye. Erron’s instinct was to hit him because that was what he knew. He knew how to push Kabal down and choke him and fuck him. He didn’t know how to handle Kabal looking at him so earnestly. 

“I can-” Kabal kissed him briefly, “I can help you with that. Show you it doesn’t have to hurt.” 

“Maybe I want it to.” His voice sounded strained even to his own ears. Now who was being the fucking woman. 

Kabal moved away from him, hands slipping off his face. “You’re the one who dragged me up here, Black,” He said, irritation ticking into his voice. “You’re the one who initiated this bullshit. From where I’m standing, you’re the one who wants to get fucked.” 

Erron’s jaw set. He couldn’t argue with that. Kabal shifted his weight to stand but Erron grabbed him by the wrist. He didn’t know what he wanted. But his cock was already half-hard and he’d be damned if he was leaving without hearing Kabal moan some more. 

“Yeah, alright,” Erron finally conceded. After all, he liked living dangerously. “Just this once.” 

Erron pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. Kabal smiled and shuffled back on the bed so Erron could lie down on his back. It was hard to relax, lying like this felt wrong and vulnerable. He was only laid out like this when he lost a fight and somebody had a boot to his throat. His hands fisted the sheets to try and control the panic threatening to swirl up inside him. 

Kabal reached for his belt, hand straying too close to the gun holster. His hand shot out, closed over the top of the gun. 

Kabal sighed, “Relax.” He said and Kabal’s hand drifted away from the gun to the belt buckle, undoing it slowly, then tugging at the belt and holsters. Erron was reluctant but lifted his hips up a little, enough for Kabal to slide the belt off and onto the floor with a metal clang. The pants peeled off next and Kabal looked into his eyes as he did it, pulling them down slowly over Erron’s thighs, revealing his cock. He didn’t have much use for underwear in Outworld. 

Kabal stared at his cock for a moment. “That’s, uh,” He licked his lips, “That’s big.” 

Erron smirked, reaching forward and finding Kabal’s hair, pulling him closer to his cock, “Second guessing yourself, Kabal?” 

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Kabal said, taking ahold of Erron’s shaft and rubbing it lightly. “You should wait ‘till you see mine.” 

“So long as you don’t get out the tape measure, princess.” 

Kabal continued his work stroking up and down Erron’s shaft but painfully slow for someone so fast. His other hand worked the inside of Erron’s thigh, fingernails dragging over the skin there, enough for a shiver to escape and ripple through Erron’s body. 

“Will you hurry up?” 

Kabal laughed, “Pushy much, Black?” 

But his tongue came out, licking over Erron’s balls before sucking one into his mouth. Erron moaned, hand finding Kabal’s shoulder and digging into it. Kabal moved his hand from the shaft, fingers ghosting over Erron’s skin and making him squirm again, until it came to rest on his taint. 

“Oh, don’t you dare.” Erron gasped out. 

Kabal pressed his fingers against Erron’s taint, massaging it with some force, while his mouth licked a line from Erron’s balls up the shaft of his penis to the head and back again. Erron began to twitch on the bed, jaw tight as he fought back a moan. 

Kabal smiled and dropped his voice to speak quietly, “Fight it all you want, Black. I’m gunna make you cum.” 

“Fucking - son of a bitch,” Erron grit out, jaw tight. “Fuck me.” 

“You gunna get hard for me?” Kabal teased. He licked another line up Erron’s shaft. “Am I gunna make Outworld’s best shot my bitch?” 

“I’ll kill you,” Erron snarled before another moan smothered the threat, “Fucking - please.” 

Kabal’s mouth swallowed his cock, the wet, hot space enough to make him sing like his pistols. His tongue played with Erron’s head, swiping back and forth and Erron moaned again, not only because of that, but Kabal’s thumb was still working his taint, fingers moving south towards another entrance. Kabal’s fingers teased his hole, pushing against it, but didn't enter. His hands tangled in the sheets again. Kabal better take all of him after this bullshit. 

Kabal’s mouth moved up and down him, lips sucking against his shaft. “Good boy,” Erron whispered and moaned again when his head grazed the back of Kabal’s throat. He tried to hold his cock there but Kabal gagged and slid off him. 

Erron rubbed Kabal's hair, “Careful.” 

Kabal wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes red,  “Sorry.” 

“I meant you,” He warned, “That shit ain’t sexy.”

Kabal moved back onto his cock, already erect and dripping with pre-cum. He was already close and Kabal looked fantastic, sucking him off like this. Maybe he could put up with that smart mouth if Kabal used it this way more often.  

Kabal swallowed him again, moving fast this time, head bobbing up and down and breathing heavy against his swollen cock. The fingers at his hole pushed inside him and then came that familiar sting of pain. His ass burning around Kabal’s fingers. Kabal was wrong. He needed pain. 

He could feel it building up inside him. He jerked his hips up into Kabal’s mouth until the other man had to put his hands either side of Erron's  hips to steady him. 

“I’m going to fucking cum,” Erron snarled, almost shouting. His hand twisted into Kabal’s hair. “Fuck me! Fuck!”

Erron came fast and hard, right into Kabal’s mouth. It was glorious, watching him cough and swallow it and the cum dripping down his lips. Erron tugged on his hair, “Get over here.” 

Kabal crawled back up and kissed him, pressing their bodies together and Erron touched him, touched his face and dug into his back. His nails scratched at one of the wounds and Kabal let out a gasp against his mouth. Erron was still shaking.

Kabal lifted his head away, Erron’s hand still resting on his cheek. His lips moved to Erron’s neck, kissing a line up to his ear where he nipped on his earlobe.

“My turn.” He whispered. Kabal sat up, one hand on Erron’s chest, pinning him down, the other teasing a circle round his entrance.

Kabal kicked off the last of his tattered trousers and underwear, revealing a pink, erect cock of his own. He leaned forward, resting his cock against Erron’s thigh. 

“How’d you wanna do this?” 

“Spit will do.” Erron breathed, letting his head fall back. 

“Want me to warm you up?” 

“I’m good, Kabal,” Erron said. He knew it would hurt but that was the thrill of it. “Just fuck me.” 

Kabal sighed and raised a brow at him but didn’t push any further. “Well... alright then.” 

Kabal spit in his hand, then pushed it up against Erron’s entrance. The other man hissed and couldn’t fight the urge to wriggle up the bed a little. Kabal took ahold of one of his legs, manoeuvred it so it dangled over Kabal’s shoulder. 

His eyes flashed with concern. “And you’re sure you want to do this?” 

“You talk too much.”

Kabal hesitated for a moment, then took ahold of his cock, angling it up to Erron’s hole. He pushed against Erron and Erron clenched his teeth, feeling that familiar burning sensation as Kabal crept into him. 

“Relax,” Kabal sighed, stroking along Erron’s leg.

“Hurry up then.” He bit out. 

Kabal pushed inside of him and Erron was aware of how full he was, a sensation that helped override the pain. Kabal moved forward so he leaned over Erron, hand resting beside Erron’s head. 

“Jesus, fuck,” Kabal hummed. “You’re so fucking tight around my cock, _holy shit_.” 

He watched as Kabal’s mouth fell open, obscene noises tumbling out, lips still fat from dicksucking. It was enough to twitch Erron’s cock even after he was already spent. Kabal started pounding him, cock hot and burning inside of him and there sure as hell wasn’t enough lube but that almost made it better. He brought Kabal’s face down to him again and kissed him harshly, biting his lip as Kabal fucked him. 

“Harder, come on,” Erron demanded, “Fuck me harder you limp dick son of a bitch!” 

Kabal went faster, making the bed shake. His moans turned into to yells of pleasure, loud enough Kano and probably all the fucking Black Dragon shitheads downstairs would be able to hear them if they hadn't already. But Erron didn’t want to think about Kano when he was getting fucked like this, so he pushed his fingers into Kabal’s mouth instead and held on. 

“Black, you fucking-” Kabal panted around his fingers. He felt Kabal’s cock twitch inside him. “God, I fucking love your ass.” 

With a shout of pleasure, Kabal came inside him. He slid out of him and Erron’s ass burned like hell, but he missed that full feeling inside him. He could feel the cum dripping out as Kabal reeled back, still panting and stroking his cock, eyes closed. 

After a moment, Erron sat up. They stared at each other for a long moment, both still breathless. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Kabal whistled, “That’s better than kombat.” 

“Don’t be so sure,” Erron smirked. “With me, they can be the same thing.” 

“Yeah, no shit,” Kabal tipped his head back, then looked at Erron again. “What now?”

“You better leave,” Erron said, “No doubt Kano ‘ll be smug as the cat with the canary by tomorrow.” 

“Shit,” Kabal replied, only just realising. “You think he heard?” 

“You've got a set of lungs on you, boy.” 

“Fuck,” Kabal whispered. Then he smiled. “That’s what the stupid fuck gets for almost getting me killed.” 

Erron sighed, “Somehow I think this is gunna blow back worse on us than on him.” 

Erron waited for Kabal to leave. He didn’t move. He glanced to his tattered trousers on the floor. “Maybe I should stay here tonight.” 

“No.” 

This was the danger zone. Let them have an inch and they’d take a mile. Erron had learned that the hard way with Skarlet. 

“Well, if I go, that means sneaking out of here naked,” Kabal mentioned. He shrugged, trying to faint a nonchalant attitude but he was smiling and it made Erron want to punch him. “Someone could start thinking you and me are-”

“There is no ‘you and me’, you idjit,” Erron growled, though the thought of adding that to the pile of shit Kano would dump on him in the morning was enough to dissuade him. “Fine. Stay here tonight.” 

Kabal’s grin grew wider as he climbed under the covers. “We can cuddle if you want.”   


“You better shut up and sleep,” Erron said, sliding in beside Kabal. His lips still looked so fuckable. “And if you tell anyone this ever happened, I’m gunna put a bullet where your brain should be.” 

Kabal nodded, though his expression was a little pained. Erron ignored the urge to reach out and kiss him. Getting attached never ended well and he wasn’t about to get attached to Kabal of all fucking people. 

Kabal turned over in bed, away from him, back still bleeding. They’d have to fix that up properly in the morning or rather, Kabal would. Still, looking at Kabal curled up next to him, thinking about all the things he wanted to do to Kabal made him doubt whether he could keep his vow of detachment. 

Erron Black didn’t get attached. It was nothing personal. 

Well, maybe just this once. 


	2. Chapter 2

Sunlight spilled through the light, chiffon curtains, drifting in the wind like a ghost. The early morning sun baked Erron’s body, stirring him awake. He enjoyed a few moments of blissful warmth, in that soft period between sleeping and waking, to enjoy being alive without having to fight for it. He realized, with a groggy start, that he’d rolled into Kabal during the night. His arms rested against the other mercenary’s back, hands draped near Kabal’s neck. He lifted his arms away, noticed the caked on blood transferred to his arms that matched Kabal’s injuries. Kabal had soft skin, like butter. Surprisingly soft for an assassin, save for where the skin broke into raised scars and healed bullet wounds. He traced a finger across the smooth skin of Kabal’s arm, over an ominous Black Dragon tattoo that was interrupted by a scabbing wound. His skin was too good to be ruined by the Black Dragon's brand.

He didn’t jolt awake to Erron’s touch, or even stir in bed. If Erron were anyone else, an Outworlder like Skarlet or hell, even Kano, Kabal would have a knife twisted between his shoulder blades by now. Trusting fool. 

Dragging himself upright, Erron let the grogginess take hold of him, sinking deep into his being. The pain came second, washing over him like a welcome friend. It hurt to sit up in bed, ass still aching from the pummelling last night, jaw on fire after Kabal’s well-placed elbow and a night of brutal kissing. His muscles were strained and overextended. He felt like shit, but in if it was in exchange the pleasure of last night, he could live with it. 

Erron’s eyes drifted back to Kabal. He considered kicking him out of bed, but it seemed a waste to ruin the view of Kabal resting in a halo of warm orange light, scars almost golden in the sunshine. 

Erron’s hand ghosted Kabal’s lower back, the area where that large wound resided. He wiped his hand across it as gently as possible, fingers coming away with blood. Kabal groaned in his sleep but didn’t wake up. Erron sighed. He needed that stitched before it got infected. He’d need clothes from his room, too, before Kano could make a snide comment. Erron hoped he’d been too blackout drunk last night to remember anything he’d heard. 

He dragged himself to his feet, the straw mattress mercifully silent as he lifted himself up. He tried to dress quietly but it was a process with so much leather in his wardrobe. He recovered his hat from the bedpost. He found his belt and pistols on the floor and it stirred an anger in him. Stupid, letting Kabal disarm him like that, especially when he found the belt on Kabal’s side of the bed. It only reinforced what Erron already knew: that love made a man slow and stupid and would get him killed. 

Not that last night had been love. 

He went to the mirror and examined a purpling bruise along his jawline, no doubt a souvenir from Kabal. Not like he hadn’t deserved it, but Erron had left a few marks of his own and was toying with the idea of leaving a few more, if he got his way. His face mask would cover the bruise, hopefully warding off any unwanted prying. Not that Erron was exactly thrilled at the prospect of seeing Kano’s face anytime soon, unless he had a job for him. At the very least, a good night’s fucking had hopefully tamed Kabal’s lion’s rage to a kitten’s purr. 

Black Dragons did not rise early like Erron did. It was easy to creep down the corridor towards Kabal’s room. He paused by the balustrade when he heard a shuffling sound downstairs but it was only one of the innkeeper’s daughters, sweeping leaves out of the entrance and onto the porch. Erron continued his steady pace down to the other end of the hall.

He turned the door handle slowly, as if out of fear he’d walk in on someone, even when Kabal was content in his bed. The room mirrored his, as he was sure all the rooms in the inn did, a simple bed on a simple straw mattress and a dresser with a mirror. Outworlders wanted for little. 

Erron crossed to the dresser and opened one of the drawers. He found a few changes of clothes, another coat with one of those faux fur monstrosity collars Kabal was so fond of. He grabbed the darker camo gear for Kabal to wear, with Kano’s promise of a new job in mind, if Kabal didn’t tell Kano where to stick it after all. 

As he rummaged through the clothes, a passport came into view. It apparently belonged to a man called Carlos Rivera, a twenty-seven year old from Idaho, with Kabal’s mugshot. Next to it was a driving license for Mateo Rojas, a thirty-two year old from Nevada, also with Kabal’s picture. Why Kabal thought he needed a passport, even a fake one, in Outworld was beyond Erron. It wasn’t like the innkeeper was going to ID him at the bar. 

In the third draw, he found the needle and thread he was looking for and pocketed it. There were condom packets, too, all used. Erron's hand strayed to a small bottle of lube and Erron snickered. 

He had one last smirk at the ugly photos of Kabal on the IDs, then put them back in the draw. He kept the lube.

Erron was halfway out the door when he froze. Kano was standing there, holding Kabal’s bloody hookswords. They stared at each other. 

Kano’s confused frown cleared into a shit-eating grin that made Erron want to punch him in the teeth. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” Kano grinned. “Not exactly the man I was looking for. Heard you had a  _ rough _ night.” 

Erron tried to keep his face impassive, hands reaching for the pistols' comforting presence. 

“We started hearing all these weird noises once you and speed bump disappeared upstairs together,” Kano continued then opened his big mouth, loud sexual noises and high-pitched moans spilling out. Erron scowled. Kano laughed and jabbed, “And now here you are, sneaking out of Kabal’s room like I’m Daddy chasing away his teenage boyfriend.”   


Erron’s fingers twitched beside his pistol, “Do we have a problem, Kano?” 

Kano shrugged, “Doesn’t matter to me who you put your dick in,” He said, “A hole’s a hole. And Kabal’s always been weak. I know I’d throw him around like a ragdoll, if I got the chance.” 

Erron felt strangely affronted on Kabal’s behalf. Kabal could be a little needy and immature but he wasn’t weak. 

“Don’t be so sure.” 

Kano’s already smug grin shifted into a sneer. Erron instantly regretted his choice of words. 

“Never knew you were such a pillow princess, Black.” 

Erron drew his gun, quick as a gazelle, and fired it in Kano’s direction. The bullet whizzed past him, scraping his ear and embedding in a wooden beam behind Kano. Downstairs, the innkeeper’s daughter screamed. Several Black Dragon strongmen threw open their bedroom doors, shotguns and katanas at the ready. Kano didn’t even flinch. 

Kano held up his hand to stop the advancing Black Dragons. “Stand down boys,” Kano grunted. “Black’s just showing a little fire is all. He’s made his point.” 

Kano held out the hookswords to Erron, letting them dangle off his fingers by the handles. 

“Give these to your boyfriend for me," Kano winked. "And tell him we move out in an hour."

Erron shoved past Kano while the other man laughed under his breath. He marched past the parade of Black Dragons until he was at his bedroom again, yanking the door open and slamming it behind him. He threw the swords down. Kabal was still in bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. 

“Who got shot?” Kabal asked, sounding unconcerned. “Was it Kano?” 

“In your dreams.” Erron mumbled, “Why didn’t you come out?”  

“Naked,” Kabal yawned, “And the Black Dragon doesn’t pay me enough to get out of bed every time there’s a fight.” 

He threw Kabal’s clothes at him. The vest hit his face, smothering him until he yanked it away. Erron shook the bottle of lube in his hands, "Couldn't have mentioned this last night?" 

"Good to see you went through my shit," Kabal replied with marked agitation, "And I thought you liked it rough."

Kabal tried to pull his vest over his head. He let out a grunt of pain and Erron remembered the needle and thread, glancing down at his pocket, then continued watching Kabal struggle. 

“Goddamn everything _hurts._ ” Kabal hissed, mostly to himself. 

After Kabal pulled on his cargo pants, Erron fished out the needle and thread and said, “Here.” 

"Later." 

Erron frowned, “You need to stitch up that nasty scratch, or you’ll be sorry.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Kabal insisted. “You really think I’m going to turn my back and let one of these Black Dragon fucks stick me with a needle?”

Kabal turned to leave but Erron caught him by the arm. It wasn’t harsh, he didn’t have to dig his nails in. He just had to reach out and touch him and Kabal stopped. 

“Kabal,” Erron was slow and purposeful with his name, “You need to patch up that cut.” 

“Are you offering?” 

Erron tugged on his arm like a child tugging on their favourite teddy bear. “Sit down.” 

Kabal stared at him, eyes hesitant and reluctant. Then he allowed himself to be led back to the bed, settling down just as they had the night before. 

He lifted Kabal’s vest, felt Kabal's skin slide over his fingers again, revealing that ugly gash. He felt a shiver go through Kabal’s body before he said, “You better not bite me this time.” 

“Oh, I’ll get a bite,” Erron allowed laugh to slip from his lips as he threaded the needle, “See, got my own little fishing hook here.” 

“Dad jokes? Really?” 

“That depends,” Erron let a half-smile ghost his face, “Am I yer Daddy now?” 

Kabal snorted, “You wish.” 

Kabal hissed as Erron pushed the needle through his skin. He bit down hard to suffocate the pain as Erron stitched him, punching new holes through his skin before closing the loops again. “Jesus fucking Christ, that hurts.”

Kabal covered the hand Erron used to steady him with his own. It was a welcome touch, if distracting. 

Erron smiled. “Nothing a big boy like you can’t handle, I’m sure.” 

“We're not all masochists,” Kabal jabbed, “Seriously, Black, there’s something wrong with you.” 

Erron frowned at Kabal’s tone. He pricked the needle against a clean spot of skin, making Kabal flinch. “Ow,” He growled. “See what I mean?” 

Erron smirked, moving his lips close to Kabal’s ear, “Didn’t stop you from fucking me.”

“No,” Kabal hummed, glancing over his shoulder to look at Erron with eager eyes, “It didn’t.” 

Erron resisted the urge to place a kiss over Kabal's neck, where Erron's teeth marks were imprinted in a sharp red and purple bruise. It felt good, seeing that mark on Kabal. Letting him know who he belonged to. It twitched Erron's cock a little.

He continued his steady work on Kabal's back. He was the perfect man for the job, his hands never trembled. He finished the stitch and leaned in close, severing the thread with his teeth. 

Kabal winced. "Those Red Dragon bastards are gunna lose their heads," he vowed. "Then Kano's next." 

Erron crossed to the dresser and returned with the last of the whiskey, pouring it over Kabal’s stitches and then over Erron's own hands, dampening the bed a little. Whiskey was Erron's multipurpose wonder.

Kabal let his vest fall but Erron returned to the bed, pushing it up again, feeling along Kabal's skin, along his toned stomach. Kabal glanced over his shoulder at him in surprise, then smiled.

Erron paused. "Kano heard us."

Kabal shrugged and Erron felt Kabal's muscles stretch under his skin, "Do we care?" 

"Depends," Erron purred and his fingers moved to Kabal's nipples, pulling on one of them. Kabal squirmed under him. Erron grinned, "How much do we want to piss him off?"

Erron tugged on Kabal's shoulder, motioning for him to move backwards onto the bed. Kabal lay in front of him, propped up on his elbows. Erron straddled his hips, sitting over his crotch, feeling for Kabal's soft cock over his cargo pants. 

A satisfied smile spread across Kabal's face and he moved closer, rubbed his nose against Erron's face mask. "You gunna let me in, Black?"

"We’ve got an hour." Erron told him. He found the clasps of his mask and set it down beside him on the bed. Kabal leaned in to kiss him but Erron placed a hand on his chest, delaying him. He pushed him down, bending over so Erron could kiss him, chewing on his lip, while Erron grabbed him again through the cargo pants. He pushed his palm into Kabal’s length, felt a soft whine vibrate through his jaw and Kabal’s tongue became more insistent, licking into his mouth. His fingers kneaded Erron’s hair under his hat, like he was scratching behind a cat’s ear. Erron was embarrassed how much he enjoyed that touch. 

Kabal knocked his hat off with a smirk and in retaliation Erron tweaked his nipples, eliciting another soft moan. Erron continued to kiss him and let his hand rest on Kabal’s throat. Not choking him, but with enough pressure to feel Kabal’s pulse jump against his fingers. Erron’s own erection throbbed against his jeans and only heightened when Kabal’s hand moved from teasing his back to rubbing against Erron's crotch.

Erron broke the kiss, removing his hand from Kabal’s throat and instead slipping it down under the belt of his cargo pants and into his underwear. He stroked along Kabal’s shaft, teasing a moan from him, as Erron’s mouth dragged across his throat. He kissed along Kabal’s neck from his jawline to the crevice between his neck and his shoulder and chose that area to suck on him, teeth chewing at the skin there.

Kabal’s grunt of pain was swallowed by a whine of pleasure as Erron’s hands moved to cup his balls. “Dammit Black,” Kabal breathed with an amused little smile. “You make me want to get a rabies shot.” 

Erron released him and sat up, grinding against Kabal until he let out another moan. “Don’t pretend you don’t love it.” 

“I’m warming up to it,” Kabal admitted and rose up to meet Erron, kissing him briefly. “And you.”

“Oh, I’ll warm you up,” Erron said, “I’ll warm you up real good.” 

Erron’s hands tore at the cargo pants, roughly pulling them off. He let his fingernails drag across Kabal’s thighs, leaving faint red marks over his skin and catching on some of the scratches, causing Kabal to hiss. Erron smiled and removed Kabal’s underwear as Kabal pulled his vest over his head, tossing it off the bed. Erron pressed his lips against Kabal’s inner thigh, ignoring his semi-hard cock and nipped him again. 

Kabal groaned, “You’re a freak, Black.” 

“You’re just young,” Erron sighed, rising from the bed. “Live a little, Kabal.” 

With Kabal spread out in front of him, Erron couldn’t resist the urge to slap him across the thigh, hard enough to sting. Kabal let out a surprised yelp and clutched his leg.

“Bastard,” Kabal bit out. Then he smiled, “Do it again.” 

Erron smirked, walking slowly over to the dresser. He took off his belt and guns, let them rest peacefully on top of the dresser. Then he picked up the bottle of lube he’d pocketed from Kabal’s room. He waved it in Kabal’s direction, “Only if you ask nicely.” 

“Please,” Kabal begged, “Hit me.” 

Hearing Kabal say those words did nothing for Erron’s already strained erection and he rubbed himself over the top of his own trousers. Restraint was important. Erron nodded his head at Kabal and demanded, “Turn over.” 

“Why?”    
  
“So I can fuck you like a bitch.” 

“Black, I can’t-” Kabal stuttered, suddenly unsure of himself. He sat up a little, hand reaching out to take Erron’s wrist. “I need you to warm me up. I’m not-”

“You’re not like me,” Erron finished for him and Kabal looked away. Erron took hold of his chin, turned Kabal’s head back to face him. “You’re a good boy. And I’m going to ruin that for you.”

“Red Dragon couldn’t break me,” Kabal reminded him with a mischievous smile before he kissed Erron again. “What makes you so confident?” 

Erron slapped him again and Kabal winced, still smiling. Erron’s nail dug into his skin, “I always get the job done.”

Kabal turned around on the bed, resting on his hands and knees. Erron pushed a hand into his back, prompting him to lie down fully on his stomach. Kabal’s head twisted to gaze at him from down the end bed. 

“Don’t worry,” Erron said, voice approaching what might have been softness from anyone else, “It'll hurt at first, but then it's going to feel good.” 

Kabal hung off the edge of the bed, dripping cock pressed into the straw mattress and tanned ass ready for Erron. Erron dropped to a knee beside him and took a hold of Kabal's asscheek, nails digging into it, prompting a small moan from Kabal. He spanked him again and Kabal let out a rough gasp and then a breathless, contented sound. His head nuzzled into the blankets. Erron hit him again, grabbing his cock at the same time, pulling on him harshly. 

“Fuck, that fucking stings,” Kabal murmured, head still buried in the mattress. “You’ve gotta give me something more than this, Black, come on.”

“Who says I gotta do anything?” Erron snickered and hit him hard across the back of the legs. Kabal yelped.

“Fuck you, Black,” He spat. “Fucking bastard.”

“I’d rather fuck you myself,” Erron said, and spread his cheeks apart. He heard Kabal’s breathing hitch and he grinned, “Not so chatty now, huh?” 

“Just… go slow, alright?” 

Erron opened the bottle and poured a generous amount out onto his fingers. He hated the feel of the stuff but Kabal wasn’t like him, he was a soft touch when it came to the rough stuff. Best to ease his way in. “Funny choice of words for your kind, Kabal.” 

He smeared some of the lube around Kabal’s entranced and Kabal wriggled away from him, the sudden wetness of the lube against him making him fidgety. Erron used his free hand to grab Kabal’s leg, preventing him from moving any further up the bed. 

“Here we go,” Erron hummed, pushing a finger part the way inside Kabal. “Nice and slow.” 

It was a struggle to stay inside him. Kabal’s ass around his finger was like a vice, he was tight as shit. Kabal shifted on the bed, letting out a soft groan into the blankets. Erron worked him slowly, a gentle, steady rhythm, trying to stretch him out. He slipped another finger in and kept with that same, patient pace. When he realized Erron wasn’t going to rush him, Kabal relaxed around his fingers.

"Do I feel good inside you?" Erron purred and kissed his ass. He sunk his teeth in, not as harshly as he had marked Kabal's skin last night but Kabal still let out a deep, rumbling moan. Erron was so hard and tense against his trousers, he had to stop stroking Kabal off and to feel his own erection, only spurred on by Kabal's moaning. He stroked along his cock, feeling the weight of it. He couldn't wait to put it inside Kabal, to fuck into him. It was a goddamn conquest, fucking another assassin, knowing he got under the skin, knowing he had been inside them. 

"God yes."

"Fucking whore." Erron snapped and pushed a third finger inside, prompting more moaning Kabal tried to smother with the blankets.

"Head up," Erron demanded and smacked his ass again. Kabal let out a yelp, gritting his teeth. "I want to hear you."

"Someone's demanding." Kabal said, voice high and breathless. 

"Damn straight." 

Erron fingered him in earnest, fucking in and out of him. Kabal's moaning turned into borderline screams. That boy could not be quiet for the life of him.

Between the pants and moans, Kabal managed to chastise him, "Don't you know what the meaning of go slow is, Black?"

"Don't you ever shut the fuck up, Kabal?"

"Not with you around, you bastard."

Erron curled his fingers inside Kabal and watched him yelp and try to squirm up the bed, muscles contracting around his fingers. Erron grabbed his thigh, nails digging into his skin, and held him in place.

"You should watch that mouth of yours," Erron warned, fingers pushing deeper and pulling out faster, making Kabal tremble beneath him. "It'll get you into real trouble one day.

"You seemed to love it," Kabal huffed. "When it was was wrapped around your cock."

"Only good use for it."

Erron removed his fingers, pulling out another soft moan from Kabal, and tugged on his own trousers, letting them fall down around ankles. Erron stood and placed a hand over Kabal’s back, leaning on him, feeling the air expel from his lungs and suck back in again. Pressed against the mattress, Kabal’s cock was leaking down the blankets and over his thigh. He wouldn’t last much longer.

Erron found the lube from the floor, rubbed it on his own cock, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over him. Then he pushed the head of his cock into Kabal’s ass, watching Kabal's asshole swallow it. His ass was tight as a vice around Erron's cock but it was the warmth around him that made Erron groan and kiss Kabal's back. It was almost burning against his cock, an overwhelming feeling that washed over him and had him fisting the blanket beside him. .

“Fucking hell,” Kabal groaned. “Couldn’t have given me more of a warning, Black?” 

“Here’s your warning.” Erron whispered and pulled his cock out, watching Kabal shrink and the frustrated noise he made at Erron’s withdrawal.

“Fucking Christ, Black,” Kabal mumbled. “I can’t fucking - I’m gunna cum before you fuck me.” 

“You better not.” 

Erron plunged into his ass and Kabal's breathing caught him his throat. He rolled his hips into Kabal trying to get a rhythm going, Kabal’s ass tense against his shaft. 

“ _ Fuck me _ , holy shit,” Kabal gasped out. “That’s so fucking -”

Erron, breathless himself, replied, “At a loss for words, Kabal? That’s a first.” 

He could feel Kabal trembling below him and fucked him harder, pushing deeper. He grabbed Kabal by the hair, pulled on it tightly, bending his neck back. Erron's other hand seized his cock and stroked it roughly as he pounded into the back of him. Kabal’s mouth formed a perfect O-shape, filled with moans and pleas, pleas for Erron to fuck him, pleas for Erron to let him cum. 

“Not until I’m finished with you.”

He yanked Kabal’s head back further, kissed the taut muscles of his neck. He didn’t bite him, but he did slap his ass again and fucked him faster, pummelling him into the bed. 

“I’m gunna-” Kabal gasped, “I’m gunna fucking cum! Fucking shit!” 

Kabal came down the side of the bed, body shaking with pleasure and Erron continued to fuck into him, Kabal’s own writhing only adding to the pressure building up in his cock. 

“Fuck!” Erron growled and pulled out of him, just in time to spray an exhausted Kabal with cum, splurging on his back. 

“ _ Black _ ,” Kabal managed to sound pissed off and joyous at the same time, “You realize I have to clean this up.” 

“Too bad for you.” He said, breathing heavy and stroking out the last of his orgasm. 

Kabal rolled over and sat up, chest still heaving and body shining with sweat. He pulled Erron to him, made him perch on his lap with Erron’s arms draped around his neck and kissed him. It was a hungry kiss, full of wanting, Kabal’s breath heavy in his mouth. 

Kabal moved away and a mischievous smile shone on his face, “ _ Kaballin’ _ ”

Erron narrowed his eyes, “Don’t say that.” 

“Why not?” 

“You sound like a thirteen-year-old.” 

“What’s wrong with a catchphrase?” 

“Everything, you idjit.” 

Before Kabal could answer, there was a banging at the door, fists hitting the wood hard enough to rattle it. “Bloody hurry up in there!” Kano screamed, banging the door again, “We’re going, you drongos! Black, get out of Kabal’s ass already!” 

“Fuck you.” Erron said.

“Motherfucker.” Kabal added. 

Through the door, Kano descended into a verbal tirade, which they both tried to ignore. Erron just wanted to hold Kabal for a moment and enjoy the afterglow, looking into those playful brown eyes.

“Well,” Erron said with a satisfied smile, “We pissed him off.” 

Kabal looked past Erron at the door. “Now we just have to kill him.” 

“I like getting paid.” 

Kabal sighed, “So do I.” 

“We’ll bench it for now,” Erron rolled off Kabal and tapped him gently on the thigh. “Doesn’t mean killing him is off the table. Get dressed.” 

“I can hear you, you stupid fucks!” Kano growled through the door.

“Why don’t you come in here and do something about it?” Kabal yelled in response. 

There was a silence where Erron watched the door and wondered if Kano had the balls to walk in on them. He was reminded of his guns sitting on the dresser, just in case. 

“You bogans fucking wish,” Kano replied, bowing out of the challenge. “Just get down here, will ya?” 

They glanced at each other, then laughed as Kano’s footsteps receded. 

“Time to go.” Erron said, dressing himself. 

“We should do this again sometime.” 

“Yeah,” Erron replied, knowing this next job would be his last with the Black Dragon. “Sometime.” 


End file.
